


im so fucking gone for you

by TastefullyIlliterate



Series: hq chatfic-verse [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Cooking, Cute Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Domestic Fluff, Domestic thoughts, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, I LOVE THEM BUT THEYRE SO DUMB, M/M, Rejection, Sugawara Koushi Is Bad At Feelings, anyways nishinoya's only there for a quick moment, bad attempts at cooking, by god i will MAKE THIS A TAG, can be read as standalone!!, im so sorry for clogging the tags, no wonder my beta kept commenting "i hate gay people", once again for the consideration of the public, once again reminder i cant fucking tag, suga cant cook fight me abt it, there's bad cooking and cooking lesson tags but for the consideration of the public, youve heard of violent or triggering thoughts but never heard of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27604523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TastefullyIlliterate/pseuds/TastefullyIlliterate
Summary: Daichi’s just his friend.The word is normally a good one; friends are good, after all. But this time, knocking around inside him, the word steels itself. It becomes a serrated edge, cutting away slowly at him, leaving holes he knows he can’t fix. The cuts bleed and bleed andbleed, and he knows who can fix it, who can stop it before he drowns. But he can’t ask Koushi to do that. Not now, no. Daichi could handle it, hold his breath and take the pain a little longer. Now didn’t feel like the right time. But soon. Soon--he could feel it-- something between them would give, and they could finally take what they’ve been aching for.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: hq chatfic-verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018153
Comments: 15
Kudos: 64





	im so fucking gone for you

**Author's Note:**

> AAAA ITS HERE VKJFN ok so this isnt the first daisuga i published but this IS the first daisuga ive WRITTEN,, and i really hope u guys like it!!
> 
> ok i wont bore u so uhh i have a playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7ldPevKNwFGcIw5taQ7D4u) full of all the songs referenced in the fic!! theyre all very pretty and i highly reccomend them all !! 
> 
> this fic is beta'd by rinpanna on here and twt!! thank u annie for being so helpful and thorough!!

Bubblegum pink, cinnamon brown, and yellow.

Sugawara Koushi, smiling like ice cream and sunflowers.

Daichi would like to say that he has some sort of cool, funny thing to say when he rings the doorbell- when the door opens and Koushi, like a cool spring breeze, washes over him in casual smiles and a “ _ hey, how’s it goin _ ’?”.

It takes him a couple moments to realize he should probably answer.

“Fi-fine.” His shoulders are probably visibly tense, he has to force himself to relax,  _ damnit- _

“Cat got your tongue?” Koushi gives Daichi a crooked, smug grin and it takes everything in him not to faint right on the spot, goddamnit he's so  _ cute _ -

“Shut up, you.” Daichi can’t help but laugh a bit, stepping inside.

“Hope you’re as good at cooking as Noya says you are. He spoke so fast all I heard was ‘religious experience’ and ‘recipes are just a suggestion.’”

“I dunno about a religious experience, but I can promise my zucchini pasta is definitely edible.” 

“Well I’ll be the judge of that, Japanese Gordon Ramsey.”

“I don’t look that angry all the time, do I?”

They make eye contact for two seconds, three, four; Daichi’s mouth quirks up just a little bit which sends Koushi into a fit of laughter. Listening to Koushi laugh sounded like the smell of rain and “good morning”, felt like everything was clicking into place, everything was  _ right _ .

They sit down on the couch. They’re in no rush to get cooking immediately, no rush to do anything but sit and be there together. Even if they burn the zucchini noodles--or forget to cook at all--the time there with Koushi would be enough for him.

Any time with Koushi at all is enough.

“Bitch, I could've  _ sworn _ I saw something in the bushes right now.” Koushi says without preamble, looking suspiciously through the window of his living room to a bush in his front yard. There was rustling, but nothing too notable.

“Could be the wind. If it happens again we can check all the doors, close the curtains, and all of that. Sound good?”

Koushi nods, a beat late.

“So, how’s your dad doing with that new promotion he got?” Daichi asks.

“He took my mom on an impromptu celebratory trip this weekend so… he’s probably torn up about it. I mean  _ really _ messed up. The devastation was unreal. People died. Someone fainted. I ate cake. Four homes burnt down.”

“Wait wait wait  _ what _ ?”

“I said I ate cake.”

They both lock eyes again, before immediately dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“I’m glad we both finally got free time. It’s been awhile since we’ve just been together, y’know?” Daichi says, because he means it and he was too busy staring at Koushi’s smile to realize he was speaking verbally. 

He immediately doesn’t regret it.

Koushi’s face lights up like a traffic light, but in a cute way. Like Daichi said a word, flipped a switch, and out came Koushi’s flushed face. His heart stutters, noticing Koushi’s hands immediately going to fiddle with his thumbs -a habit Daichi notes he does when he’s nervous or caught off guard- and Daichi feels his own face burning. 

Koushi lit him on fire,  _ burned  _ him, and even if all that’s left at the end is ash, it would have been worth it. 

“That’s gay, Daichi.” Koushi says, and Daichi sputters a bit. But he doesn’t really lose his composure that much- after all, they’re  _ friends _ .

“But yeah, it’s been a long time since we’ve just hung out, without studying or anything.” Koushi continued.

Daichi smiles gently at him, puts everything he has, everything he  _ is _ into the look on his face, like he could say it all without saying a word. 

“I’m glad I’m here today, Kou.”

A pause, a year, a lifetime, a hand reaching forward, a cool breeze of spring air-

“Me too.”

  
  


——-

  
  


As much as Daichi wants to lay his head in Koushi’s lap and just soak in his presence, melt into the seconds that drip away as if the sun was a candle whittling away at itself, he thinks maybe he shouldn’t do that with someone he considers a friend. A close friend. A close friend he wants to spend every waking moment with, never leave his side no matter how badly it burns, but a friend nonetheless. The word rattles through his brain while they talk on the couch; it keeps bubbling up and picking away at his thoughts while they talk, distracting and painful to think about. Friend, friend,  _ friend _ . He’s just a friend. 

Daichi’s just his friend. 

The word is normally a good one; friends are good, after all. But this time, knocking around inside him, the word steels itself. It becomes a serrated edge, cutting away slowly at him, leaving holes he knows he can’t fix. The cuts bleed and bleed and  _ bleed _ , and he knows who can fix it, who can stop it before he drowns. But he can’t ask Koushi to do that. Not now, no. Daichi could handle it, hold his breath and take the pain a little longer. Now didn’t feel like the right time. But soon. Soon--he could feel it-- something between them would give, and they could finally take what they’ve been aching for. 

They sit and talk and just  _ exist _ together for around ten minutes. Daichi snatches up every single second he can, breathes in sunflowers and pastel pinks and Koushi’s hands covering his mouth when he laughs; he breathes out all his doubts and fears and thoughts, breathes out nothing and everything he’s ever hurt for. He’s here, he’s  _ here _ , and he technically isn't home, but dammit, it hits pretty close to it when Koushi forgets to put his hand over his mouth when he smiles. It feels less like ten minutes of conversation and more like a little piece of time they carved out, a moment just for themselves--a niche of their lives nestled in his heart like a geode to add to his collection of memories, edged with bubblegum pinks and cinnamon mica, suspended in the air like a locket held together by chains of glittering yellows and bluebell laughter.

The time burns away slowly and all at once: like candlelight flickering gently but steadily, until it isn't. 

“Alright. How about that zucchini noodle recipe, now?” Koushi asks, pulling Daichi out of his own pool of  _ “I love it here, I like you so much, never leave my side” _ , which he’d been melting into as the seconds ticked by. Any longer, and he would’ve choked on his own bleeding heart.

“They shouldn’t take too long to defrost. Just put them in hot water.” 

Daichi washes his hands and starts taking out the tomatoes, chicken, parsley, parmesan, and other things he’d given Koushi money to buy for this weekend. He’s pulling out a cutting board when he sees Koushi taking the zucchini  _ out _ of the plastic bag before putting it in the hot water.

“Woah woah woah, wait! You have to defrost it in the bag; if you put it in the water, it’ll cook and come out with a weird consistency later on.”

Koushi stares at the empty zucchini pasta bag in his hands, the last of the noodles dropping into the hot water with a soft  _ plop _ .

“Well then.” 

Daichi can’t help but laugh at Koushi’s more offended and exasperated than surprised tone, the way that he’d hardly even moved when Daichi pointed out that he was defrosting the zucchini noodles wrong. 

_ God, I’m so fucking gone for you. _

“It’ll be fine, I think. It’s not that hot, so we can just continue and dice all the tomatoes and stuff.” He turns his face to reach for the knife (read: hide his flush at how goddamn  _ cute _ Koushi is and for _ what _ , and pretend he doesn’t know he’s probably staring at Daichi right now).

“What should I do?”

“Grate the parmesan! And get some minced garlic, then half an onion. Make sure it’s a lot of parmesan.”

They fall into an easygoing silence, filling the space in the kitchen with warm quiet, the only noise being the chops of the knives. For a couple minutes, it’s almost  _ domestic _ . Daichi admits it was selfish, self indulgent in a strange way that he wasn't used to, but he imagined that this house was  _ theirs _ . He lets his mind piece together a different world where when they passed each other to get new ingredients or clean off a blade, they would trade quick kisses and sweet smiles. He imagined the warm silence they worked in was familiar in the sense that it was  _ regular _ . Familiar in the sense that they did this everyday, they lived together in this house every day, they were  _ together _ . He floats around in his lighthearted headspace, accented with blueberries and mint green like a refreshing reminder of what  _ could _ be, until reality comes knocking, and he answers hopefully.

“Daichiiiiiii dai dai dai dai dai chi chi chi chiiiiiii~” Daichi nearly has a heart palpitation from Koushi’s cute, teasing tone.

“Huh?”

Koushi grins, and the smile that flashes his way leaves a huge gash in Daichi’s bleeding heart.  _ Goddamn _ , he wasn’t expecting that.

“Is this enough parmesan?”

How long had Daichi been spaced out, chopping the tomatoes and chicken? The entire block of parmesan was grated down in a large bowl, enough for three times as much zucchini noodles they were going to make. He’d spent so long daydreaming about living like this every day with Koushi that he let himself forget that the kitchen, cooling with him was  _ real _ , something he still didn’t quite register.

“We’re going to need like.. a third of that. Why did you do the whole thing?”

“You didn’t specify. You just said a lot.”

A short pause, fluttering between them like bright yellow and stardust.

“You know what? That's fair. My bad.”

He laughs and Daichi isn’t sure why at first, but decides he doesn’t care. Koushi’s laughing. That's enough for him.

“Hey Siri, play my playlist on shuffle.” Koushi says without preamble, and _Best Part_ by Daniel Caesar and H.E.R. trickles out gently--in guitar chords, soft, breathy voices, pastel orange and bubblegum pink pouring into the room, slowly, but steadily.

They work in silence again, but differently; they’re almost done prepping the veggies, so when everything is done, Koushi takes the zucchini noodles while Daichi heats up and oils the pan. While the song plays, they’re murmuring. Mostly about the cooking, Koushi asking for reassurance that  _ yes _ , the parmesan goes on before the zucchini noodles so it melts,  _ no  _ you don’t need to put the spices in immediately, and all other sorts of doubts Daichi is more than happy to quell. 

_ We Find Love _ by Daniel Caesar comes on next; he sees the name flash on Koushi’s phone screen. 

_ Another Daniel Caesar song _ , Daichi thinks.

_ Must be talented for someone like Koushi to listen to a lot of his music _ . 

And then he hears it. After the chorus, a couple minutes in, rising and building and falling and plummeting before he even  _ realizes  _ it. 

_ We knew we'd come around _

_ This thing called love comes crashing down now _

_ Pieces all on the ground _

_ What once was lost cannot be found out _

It repeats, loops, rises, falls, flies, soars and crashes down on Daichi and leaves him utterly  _ speechless _ . His face flushes when he sees the look Koushi gives him--a private one he probably didn’t expect him to notice--at his reaction to the song. He can’t quite figure out the expression he’s making. 

Actually, that's not true. He might have an idea.

Hell, he knows  _ exactly  _ what that look is. Knows Koushi too well to not notice the sheer endearment in his half-smile, the half-raised eyebrows, the clear  _ something _ that lies behind his eyes. There’s something there in his eyes, something there in the air, something there  _ between them _ . He knows exactly what look he’s got on his face. God, it's so  _ gorgeous _ and he can still hardly believe he  _ caused _ it, but Daichi still refuses to say it. No, not yet. Soon, but not yet.

“I had the same reaction, too. That’s one of my favorite songs by him, because of that verse.”

Daichi does his best to return the smile; in retrospect, he should’ve just acted like he didn't see the  _ something _ there in Koushi’s face, almost  _ pain _ , but something in him tells him he’s got to make sure Koushi sees it. Make sure Koushi sees everything Daichi feels, lay everything he feels out on the table in front of them, even if he can’t say it just yet. He pours every bit of  _ something _ he feels into his smile, his eyes, everything he can to scream it out without saying a single word.

“It’s a very pretty song. His voice is very calming. I’ll check out more of his music later today.”

“Awesome. Also, are the tomatoes supposed to look like that?” Koushi points to the skillet.

__

“Yes, Kou, that’s just all the seeds and tomato juice. We can add the garlic, though! Throw it in and stir.” Daichi could’ve sworn there was another  _ something _ there in Koushi’s gaze, but he turns to grab the garlic before he can be sure.

When they're done cooking they do the dishes and put the leftover noodles in Tupperware, and _We Find Love_ ends in firm, lingering piano.

\-----

They go up to eat in Koushi’s room. The noodles are warm, and they taste so  _ good _ , because Koushi had the idea to add in the same made-from-scratch sauce his mother had used earlier that week for homemade lasagna, and it made everything taste warm and seasoned and bright red, blinking excitedly. He melts into the first bite, and melts again almost entirely seeing the satisfaction on Koushi’s face at having his first bite.

  
“Dude, this is seriously good. Can you cook my food for like, every day for the rest of my life?”

_ Anything for you. _

“Yeah, sure. Anything for a friend.” Daichi smiles, pretending his face isn't most likely bright red right now, pretending his heart isn’t panging around in his chest, repeating  _ friend, friend, friend, why did I say friend- _

“Hey, did the volleyball group chat suddenly stop sending you messages, too?” Koushi’s sitting cross legged on his bed now, balancing his plate of zucchini noodles on one knee.

Daichi checks his phone.

“Yeah, it’s been silent for a long time.”

“Oh well. Less chaos to deal with.”

“Should we be concerned?”

“Probably. But I like this song! So fun and noodles now, be disappointed in your teammates later.”

_ Buttercup  _ by Hippo Campus was that filtered through the speakers, pouring into the room.

_ I'll be fine on my own, she said, I don't need you inside my head  _

_ (She'll be fine on her own, she'll be fine on her own) _

_ I'll be fine on my own, she said, all my love's wrapped in shades of red _

_ (She'll be fine on her own, she'll be fine on her own) _

It was lighthearted and upbeat. They talked a bit while they ate, and it felt like pastel yellows and softly blinking emerald greens. Daichi’s happy,  _ happy _ , so lost in their voices and Koushi’s smile and the taste of zucchini noodles. He’s swimming in joy, drowning in it. 

_ I'll be fine, I'm alright, it's my body _

_ Gonna stick to my guns, like you taught me _

_ Holy hell, I can tell that you hate me _

_ Dying moon, keep me up, keep me waiting _

Daichi decides he really likes Koushi’s taste in music. He sways his head side to side a bit, listening to the climax of the song; it's hard hitting in a cry-out-into-the-void way, and he absolutely  _ loves _ how freeing and cathartic it feels. Like he’s putting his head out of a car window, fighting the breeze beating down on him--like he’s smiling for the hell of it, and that’s good enough to laugh for. Happy for the hell of it,  _ living _ for the hell of it. 

_ That’s how you make me feel. _ He thinks, opening his eyes to look at Koushi as he chokes on a bite of zucchini noodles before swallowing it. He could’ve sworn he’d seen  _ something _ there again, could’ve seen Koushi staring at him, swaying his head with his eyes closed, but the thought dissolves when he sees that he isn’t choking anymore.

“You have a little bit of sauce on your right cheek.”

“Thanks, Daichi.” Koushi wipes it off with his thumb quickly, an absentminded swipe of his cheek.

“Anyways, did you hear that  _ The Boyz _ is getting a second season? It’s coming out this fall.”

Daichi dissolves into homemade sauces, parmesan cheese, bright, mottled yellows and pastel seafoam greens, listening to Koushi talk about a gory show like he was talking about some sort of casual, cool fact, as if he wasn’t mentioning the clear social commentary from a quite disturbingly explicit show. God, he could listen to Koushi talk all day.

  
  


\-----

  
  


Although it wasn’t a full day, three hours sure as hell is good enough for Daichi. He takes every moment he can get, every word Koushi speaks, every gesture his hands make mindlessly as he talks like river water gliding over mossy rocks.

There were moments in between conversations, like when they’d finished their zucchini noodles and gone down to wash their plates, where they wouldn’t say a single word, and it was just enough for them. They laid down in Koushi’s bed while his playlist looped on and on, melting into each song lyric and dissolving into the linens.

“Hey, Kou?”

_ Smiling faces, warm embraces _

_ Mean nothing to me _

“Hmm?”

_ Your arms around me hounds are barking up my birch wood tree _

_ Pupils glowing thoughts are flowing _

“What song’s this one?” This one is sad, but earnest. It’s raw--nothing but guitars strumming and a yearning that Daichi resonates with in some deep part inside of him.

_ Towards my lovely company _

_ Your perfect kisses, hold me softly _

_ Why can't I just leave _

“ _ Affection _ , by Scruffpuppie.”

_ But I don't want to leave _

_ Why don't you let me leave _

_ Just like everybody _

_ Just like everybody _

“Mmm,” Daichi hums. “I like it.”

_ I've become so numb to your affection _

_ Coming down on me _

_ Why do you want me to stay _

_ You're not like anybody _

Daichi likes the feeling of this song. It’s like Velcro squeezing his arm just a little too tightly: it’s rough, it hurts a little, it's  _ tight _ , but it's an honest and genuine pain. He didn’t think he needed it, didn’t think he would need to feel this song strumming inside his chest and tugging at him, but it's like ripping off a bandaid, removing stitches after too long- it would’ve hurt more to heal in any other way.

Daichi likes to think that every moment they spent together in silence was another moment they both spent patching up their bleeding hearts. 

  
  
  


\-----

  
  


Daichi really hates to leave. He does. But it’s getting late, and he really doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, no matter how many times Koushi says  _ really, you didn’t- I’ve stayed over at your place like a billion times. A couple hours really isn’t that much of a bother. Go ahead, though, I won’t stop you.  _ Daichi knows that, knows that neither of them want him to go, but he knows better than to stay any longer.

“I really liked coming over for lunch today.”

“Yeah, me too.” Koushi grins, and scratches at the back of his neck, before moving to fiddle with his thumbs, leaning against his doorway. “You. You should. Come over and teach me how to cook more often. I- uh. Clearly need to learn, haha.” He’s avoiding Daichi’s gaze, and it takes everything in him not to burst into tears at how  _ cute _ Koushi looks with such a red flush on his face, looking down at his hands.

“You know, the only mistake you made was because I didn’t tell you how much to do. You’re not that bad. Kou!” Daichi grins, because he can’t even fight the smile, the laughter that comes just from  _ seeing _ Koushi, wearing an off white, baggy knit sweater, and jean shorts, looking like nutmeg and a December morning. He’s dressed cute but casual, like he’d probably been planning to look, like he’d orchestrated every single tug that pulls at Daichi’s heartstrings.

“I mean, it, really.” Daichi says, leaning forward a bit, when Koushi doesn’t say anything, just stares, looking red faced and a little surprised. 

“Ye-yeah?” Koushi leans forward, too. Inches, miles, an endless distance stretching out and collapsing at the same time, between them.

A moment’s pause echoes between them, and Daichi’s too late to catch the  _ something _ slipping out of him, slipping into his endeared smile at Koushi,  _ God _ , Koushi, he’s so  _ beautiful- _

“... Yeah.”

  
  


\-----

  
  


Koushi’s so fucking  _ selfish _ .

Daichi’s lips are so fucking  _ warm, _ as his arms wrap around Koushi at his doorway. One step forward, and he was out and in the world and in Daichi’s arms, chasing down one last piece of that irresistible heat that he’s been engulfed in since he first opened his front door that late morning. He feels like butterscotch and hot chocolate; he’s warm, so fucking  _ warm _ , and the heat pours into Koushi with every second his arms are around his waist, every second Koushi’s hands hold onto Daichi’s face, every time he can feel their shaky, quick breaths, every second it gets warmer and hotter. And then Daichi pulls back, his breath against Koushi’s cheeks  _ burn _ and everything  _ burns _ and it's too much  _ heat _ , he shouldn’t be feeling this warm.

It feels like it's raining. It’s broad daylight on a late Saturday afternoon, but everything around Koushi is a biting cold, snapping at his shoulders and the backs of his legs; every time he pushes into Daichi just a little more, melts into the kiss a little harder, burns a little brighter, dissolves under his touch, it’s like he's found an umbrella with a heater. 

He feels like the strings of a violin, being plucked at and humming at just the right tune. Daichi always knows where to press and pull, where to run his bowstring over; he has Koushi  _ shaking _ in his embrace. God, he loves it so much, falling into the kiss, falling into his arms, falling for  _ him _ .

But Koushi can’t do this. Can’t let everything they’ve built up culminate in some bright, burning firework only to fizzle out and leave only ashes. Can’t let that  _ something _ between them grow too big for them to handle. Koushi refuses, he absolutely refuses to stay so  _ warm _ in Daichi’s arm only for them both to freeze inevitably.He can’t indulge himself with Daichi’s lips on his. No, this was  _ selfish _ of him, to take Daichi’s heart, take his face in his hands, take this moment and then ruin everything. It wasn’t gonna last. The kiss would end, and so would their friendship. All of it would culminate in a bright explosion, and when Koushi falls, he’ll land alone. Burning, and yet losing that brightness that he’d found with Daichi.

Koushi pulls away, like sparklers fizzling out and ashes falling to the ground gently.

A silent pause rings clear like a bell, echoing between them as he takes a step back, a step inside, a step away from the world he almost took for himself.

“...Kou?”

Koushi isn’t too sure what kind of face he’s making right now, but he knows Daichi can read him like a book, always has, always  _ will _ . He probably already knows what’s coming, can see it in Koushi’s hands instinctively fiddling with his thumbs again and his wide gaze.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. Daichi. I... I can’t do this.” 

Koushi moves back as he pins his eyes to his shoes, moves to close the door-

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I. This.  _ This _ isn’t right. I can’t. I shouldn’t be- No. I’m. I'm so sorry, Daichi.” Koushi steps back, moves to close the door-

“You shouldn’t what? Kiss me?” Daichi’s hand is on the door now, making sure it doesn’t shut, makes sure he can see the pained look on Koushi’s face, fuck, he’s about to _ cry, goddamnit- _

“I shouldn’t have. I’m. I’m sorry. You should- you should go now. Jesus,  _ fuck _ , I’m so  _ sorry _ . That was. Selfish of me. Bye- goodbye. Daichi. Sorry.” 

Koushi shuts the door, shuts Daichi out, and Daichi  _ lets _ him, lets him shut out the world at his fingertips and pulls away. He’s locking the door. Locking everything out. Locking himself in.

_ God, what did I just do? _

He walks up the stairs, each step panging in his chest, punching holes ( _ you fucking idiot, you put them there- _ ) in his chest, knocking around and rattling inside him. He doesn’t know exactly when the tears started, sometime between closing the door, shutting the world out, shutting  _ Daichi _ out  _ -fuck  _ that’s just the same fucking  _ difference _ at this point- and taking those first steps into that cold, cold, room that had buzzed with so much warmth only moments ago.

He walks inside slowly. He could almost see it again: Daichi following behind him, and the smell of zucchini noodles. He stared at his bed, where he’d laid down with Daichi and just talked and talked and  _ talked _ like it was all they were meant to do. He lays down again, on his back, and stares at his ceiling. He wishes he could dissolve into the sheets, drown in them. Choke on linen and Daichi’s lingering smell from earlier, choke on when he’d laid down next to him and asked him what songs he was playing, instead of choking back tears and wishing he would just  _ drown _ .

“Hey siri, play my playlist on Spotify.” He practically has to punch the words out of himself.

_ You don’t love me anymore _

_ Let’s see how you like this song _

Of fucking  _ course _ the first song that plays is  _ We Find Love _ . We find love, we find  _ love _ , goddamnit, he thinks of Daichi humming along unconsciously to the piano, the easygoing tone of Daniel Caesar’s voice. Pictures Daichi in his kitchen earlier, cooking with that precious absentminded smile that he probably didn’t realize he had on his face, probably daydreaming about something.

_ We find love, we get up _

_ And we fall down, we give up _

_ We find love, we get up _

_ And we fall down, we give up _

He’s laying down still, soaking in the chorus in tides, pushes and pulls. He can feel his tears at either side of his face, running fast and hot,  _ burning _ , warm like the face Daichi made when he’d first heard his favorite part of the song. He can see it now--can see it again and again and  _ again  _ like a broken record playing its favorite verse on repeat. Daichi’s breathless flush at one of the most gorgeous verses Koushi has  _ ever  _ heard- he can feel his face making that same aching smile at the thought of it. He can feel his heart burst from that same  _ something _ that he very well could, but refuses to name. He can see it again, that smile, that  _ blush _ , the stunned look on his face when he heard those lyrics, when Koushi stepped forward, when their lips  _ connected- _

Fuck.

_ We knew we'd come around _

_ This thing called love comes crashing down now _

_ Pieces all on the ground _

_ What once was lost cannot be found out _

Koushi wants to live in that verse forever, like a broken record playing its verse over and over again. Wants to suffocate in the same moment, over and over and over again. Wants to fall into a sea of  _ “we knew we’d come around/ this thing called love comes crashing down now,” _ wants to live over and over and  _ over _ again in stunned silences and smiles returned with so much  _ something _ there he almost does a double take-- wants to drown in cinnamon brown eyes and zucchini noodles,  _ aches  _ to return to warmth and burning embraces, arms wrapped around his waist, clutching his face, his lips are  _ so warm _ , wants to live in every single moment before he shut that door. But he knows it’s for the best. Knows it would’ve been selfish of him to keep that door open, to stay in Daichi’s arms a little longer.

Koushi isn’t sure how long it’s been that he’s been laying there when his phone pings.

_ You’ve been added to : TEATIME BITCHES _

_ kiyoko’s stepstool has changed the group chat name to : its barbie time  _

_ kiyoko’s stepstool has changed your nickname to : serial seditionist suga _

He’s not really sure when he was removed or why they hijacked the group chat name, but  _ damn _ is he really not feeling up to talking to people right now. 

Naturally, he starts typing.

**_serial seditionist suga_ ** _ : ngl i dont mind this  _

If he doesn’t think too hard about it, he can pretend it never happened- pretend he doesn’t miss Daichi pressed up against his chest, his arms wrapped around his waist, his warm lips pressed against Koushi’s. It was only once.  _ One  _ kiss.  _ One  _ embrace. Insignificant, forgettable.

So why is it replaying again and again and  _ again  _ in his head? Why is it so  _ vivid _ ? Why, when all he wants to do is drown and drown and  _ drown _ in forgetfulness and meaningless chat messages? Why does he see it in flashes, vivid color and feeling? His fingertips linger at his lips, drift there and remain until he realizes he's  _ thinking about it again, goddamnit _ . It bounces back and forth, up and down, in his mind. It pounces on him as he sits up, and he can still feel himself pushing Daichi away when he feels the painful coolness from leaving his bedsheets. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore, doesn’t want to remember how it felt, how he  _ feels _ . Doesn’t want to remember how tightly Daichi held onto him, like he was the only thing clinging him to the world, like they were the only people who would ever matter to him. He wants to forget he was the one who made the first move, was the one to jump forward and practically  _ throw _ himself onto him like he was the only thing in this would that would keep him alive. Koushi wants to forget he ever felt anything at all-

Koushi’s also a fucking  _ liar _ .

Now that he’s pushed Daichi away,  _ ruined  _ everything, spoiled it, dropped it, threw it away and locked it out, he can admit it to himself. He’s a fucking  _ liar _ , and so goddamn  _ selfish _ to just take and take and  _ take _ that kiss from Daichi and then shut the door in his face; lock himself in, lock everything he could ever want out. He had everything, everything,  _ everything _ he wanted, everything he’s been aching for, and closed the door on it. 

He grieves for what he denies himself on his way to Tanaka’s house, about half an hour later.

Koushi wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the general chaos that occurs every time they all get together, but he’s “legally obligated to attend all Barbie-related functions.” Something about it being the “backbone of the nation even though this is Japan.” Either way, it was less a fun movie night to Koushi and more a distraction, one he was so  _ sure _ he needed.

He already figured out that Tanaka and Nishinoya had taken Tsukishima to try and spy on him and Daichi when they’d figured out he was coming over to Koushi’s house, but since he hadn’t gotten any DMs and they didn’t show any sign they knew about the kiss, it was safe to assume that they had left before Daichi had.

So naturally, he acts like it never happened. It was forgotten, out of his mind. Never happened, nothing hurts. It’s all fine.

  
  


\-----

  
  
  


Koushi should’ve seen the DMs from Daichi coming, later on. When Tanaka and Nishinoya were making jokes about them dating. Trying to take Koushi’s phone, messing around as usual.

**_Direct message from : daichi c: <_ ** _ to  _ **_kou-hee-hee_ **

_ Saturday April 13, 7:23 PM _

**_daichi c: <_ ** _ : hey koushi, i’m really sorry about what happened. Did they stop? _

_ is everything okay? _

Koushi, not Kou. He knows he’s talking about Tanaka and Nishinoya’s teasing, it's basically nothing, but that  _ something _ rattling around in him keeps trying to tell him that his full first name is a sign it's something different, something earnest, something else,  _ something _ .

He doesn't reply, initially. Eventually he does, tells Daichi everything’s okay, but he already knows that Koushi’s lying. They know each other too well for his lies to go undetected. But he does his best anyways, and when Daichi finally addresses the kiss through text, Koushi tells him that he needs some time. Daichi, ever the sweetheart whom Koushi has never deserved, is understanding. Drops off some clothes for Koushi he’d left the previous week during a study session, so that Koushi can sleep over like everyone else at Tanaka’s house, as they all had planned last-minute, before Daichi had already told his parents he’d be home for the night.

_ Everything is fine, everything is fine _ , he tells himself.

_ I just have to get through tonight. _

So Koushi drowns himself in the chaos of Kageyama and Hinata arguing, ignoring Asahi’s occasional concerned glances, ignoring Nishinoya’s blatant staring; he lets himself be led away in Barbie movies and arguments over which movies were better. He stops paying attention and just goes with the flow around whatever it is that Hinata is trying to argue about cooties and surgically removing them. He isn’t feeling better, but he is numb. A part of him likes it better that way.

  
  


\-----

  
  


Sunday was  _ agony _ . 

When Koushi gets back home, he hardly leaves his bed, hardly replies to any texts or anything of the sort. He drifts in and out all day, barely getting up to eat. Anytime he’d open the fridge, the sight of their leftover zucchini noodles sitting in their tupperware container made him feel like puking, and he’d just go straight back to bed. He wishes endlessly to melt into the sheets, become so inextricably tied to his bed he becomes a part of it. Melt into the sheets, melt away from reality, dissolve into dyed cotton and the music he’s been playing for God only knows how long.  _ If the World Was Ending  _ was playing with that heartbroken tone, breaking apart like smashed ceramic, picking Koushi apart and laying him out in his bed in shattered, incomplete fragments. It’s around midday when he feels like he’s lost so many pieces of himself that he wouldn’t be enough, pieced back together, to feel whole again. Would he still function, as incomplete as he is? Or would he just stay there, broken and useless? Could he find some way to be whole?

He wonders if he ever was.

Had he been hanging onto Daichi, his smiles, his support, his laugh, eyes, his  _ something _ this entire time? Was he ever really himself without him? Has he just been relying and relying and  _ relying  _ on Daichi this entire time, like some kind of weight tugging at his wrists, hanging on his shoulders? 

Has he only ever been a burden?

Koushi was initially so  _ sure  _ when he first pushed Daichi away, when he first shut the world out and left him at his doorstep, that no matter how badly it hurt, it was for the greater good. That he shouldn’t have kissed him, that everything he was doing was for everyone’s benefit, that dating Daichi would only complicate things, that he was  _ selfish _ to try and take what he wanted, that being selfish would always end badly.

But was it really so selfish, if Daichi had wanted it too?

_ Sunlight on the bed sheets _

_ Your eyes looking heavy _

_ Shit shows on the telly _

_ We don't mind, we don't mind at all _

_ Vanilla Sundae _ by Emily Burns and Olivia Nelson makes Koushi’s chest hurt. He follows along the lyrics, letting them lead him into that bubblegum pink, that cinnamon brown, that pastel yellow warmth glow he would always feel when the guitar strums poured into the air, leaving him lightheaded every single time.

_ I just need one more vanilla sundae with you _

_ When we got nothing to do but watch the day go by _

_ So tell me, did you want one more vanilla sundae with me? _

_ Then we can call it history _

_ If that's what you really want _

Instead of that warm comfort he feels listening to the song, Koushi  _ aches _ . Knew it was going to happen, knew that-- _ goddamnit _ \--he just wants  _ one more kiss _ , to feel those bubblegum pinks, cinnamon browns and pastel yellows rising in his chest from  _ Daichi _ , wants to feel warm inside from arms wrapped around his waist so snugly, wants to feel that rising, bubbling,  _ something _ that practically erupted when their lips connected, wants to fall into the pastel yellows, glowing cinnamon browns and blinking pinks, wants to  _ be  _ those colors, wants to  _ be _ the easygoing longing, sickly sweet yearning in the lyrics. 

_ Skies grey in the morning _

_ Eyes red, tears are pouring _

_ Blueberry Monday is calling _

_ So many things that I have to do _

_ It's stormy weather _

_ I can't forget ya _

_ I tried, know that I tried _

He finally recognizes the pain flaring in his chest, pouring into the lyrics like dark blues and tomato reds, identifies them flashing around as  _ regret, regret, regret, why the fuck did I close that door- _ \- feels it in icy cold tendrils, spreading out across his chest, wrapping around every part of him. His tears fall hot onto his sheets,  _ burning _ , and he can practically see the steam from the heat of his tears against the regret he’s drowning in.

It hasn’t even been a full day and he already misses Daichi so bad, it hurts so  _ much _ , what the  _ fuck _ was he thinking just kissing him then rejecting him? 

It still hurts too much to speak, to do hardly anything but open his phone. He scrolls through their old DMs, thinking about cinnamon brown eyes, grins strong like cedar and woodsmoke, kisses like nutmeg and coffee, and arms wrapping around his waist, glowing in a soft, muted beige, with chestnut mica.

_ God, I’m so fucking gone for you. What have I done? _

_ Something’s  _ rattling around in his chest again, so warm, a gentle yellow, mottled brown and blush pink, practically glowing as it floats around melty and soft, making the block of ice sitting in his chest feel that much colder. Those aching beiges and pinks and yellows may be beside him, but their warmth will melt the icy regret to a deep, deep pool, and when it runs out, Koushi’s going to drown in it.

He’s so fucking  _ dumb _ . 

He wants to rewind everything to that final moment, just before he pushed the world, the universe, a  _ lifetime  _ away and shut the door. Wants to go back to when he was flush against Daichi’s chest, go back to his hands against his cheeks, go back to when everything around him felt cool and refreshing and Daichi was  _ warm _ , and their kiss ignited so hotly it almost  _ burned  _ in such a satisfying way. 

Daichi made Koushi burn, so hotly, sweetly, he wouldn’t even mind it if that's all he did for the rest of his life.

He spent the rest of the day and all reading up the messages, through days and weeks and  _ months _ of texts, everything they had, everything they could’ve,  _ should’ve  _ had together.

God, Daichi probably hates him now. For fucking everything up. For jumping back and forth between what he wants and what he knows is best. He probably just destroyed their entire friendship. Destroyed three years of laughing, smiling, bubblegum pinks, cinnamon browns, pastel pinks. He’d crashed into Daichi’s arms, crushed everything together then tore it apart; pushed himself onto Daichi, leaning forward, warm, warm,  _ warm _ , pulling away from Daichi, pulling backward, so cold, so cold so  _ cold- _

Koushi’s so fucking  _ selfish. _

  
  


\-----

  
  


Daichi got three hours of sleep when his alarm for school blared, blared, blared.

_ BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEE- _

No good morning text to Koushi, the way he usually would give. It was too painful, after spending a day and a half scrolling through his camera roll, all their text messages, the sheer  _ mass _ of how deeply integral Koushi was to his day. Daichi always got up a half hour earlier than him, and Koushi would always give such an enthusiastic reply to the usual “ _ good morning! _ ”. But he probably wouldn’t appreciate hearing from him, anymore. Probably wouldn’t respond with the same  _ “gm!! today’s gonna awesome ” _ Daichi let himself get accustomed to. Now he misses it, misses all the little things he knows he won’t be able to see anymore. The fiddling of his fingers, the way he covers his smile, the way his eyebrow twitches when he gets an idea- he’s everywhere,  _ everything  _ to Daichi. Hell, Koushi’s made his way into his damn  _ schedule _ . 

How long has he been falling? Falling, descending,  _ drowning _ in  _ something _ ?

  
  


\-----

  
  


Daichi puts  _ We Find Love _ in his playlist on his way to school.  _ Buttercup _ and  _ Best Part _ , too. 

He puts all the songs he can remember from Saturday afternoon into his playlists, organizes them by their sounds, lyrics, the way each song felt in Koushi’s house. _ Best Part _ made him lovesick, pining for the one person he can’t let himself think about right now, so it goes in  _ sad _ and  _ happy _ . Both playlists, both feelings. Like the sound of chopping tomatoes and heartache.  _ Buttercup _ goes in  _ happy _ , stays there because that was a carved out moment he never wants to forget; even if he can't have it again, can’t have  _ any  _ of it anymore, he wants to hold onto it. Hold onto the joy, the laughing, the flushed faces, the off white sweaters, the warm hands on his cheeks, and-  _ no _ . 

He puts  _ We Find Love _ in  _ sad _ .

\-----

  
  


Normally when Daichi dreads practice, it's because of the second and first years. 

It’s normally the chaos, the yelling, the fighting; everything is loud and bouncy and bright, saturated yellows, blues and reds, blinking on and on and on. It’s normally all the third years trying to pull everyone back and keep them focused, without getting too enthusiastic. (Really, it’s possible. Daichi still gets chills remembering the time they had to put Nishinoya on a leash. Asahi was the only one unsurprised when it didn’t work.) He’s used to it being too loud, too fast, too hard to keep up.

This practice is quiet, stilted; everyone can tell it’s because of Daichi and Koushi, but nobody says anything about it. Nothing about the tension tugging in Daichi’s gut, pulling harder and harder and  _ harder _ every time he makes eye contact with Koushi. They hardly utter a word to each other, but treat everyone else like nothing was wrong. Which was probably why even  _ Hinata _ noticed what was going on. At the end of practice, when he’s locking the locker room doors, Nishinoya practically materializes in front of him. Daichi instantly, almost instinctively smiles at him, despite the aching he’s been feeling nonstop all day.

“Woah! Didn’t notice you there, Noya. Were you waiting for me? What’s up?”

“You tell me.”

Noya’s face is entirely schooled. Daichi’s honestly not surprised--not surprised that Noya was probably one of the first people to notice, and has probably intended to ask him about it all day. Hell, he probably noticed before practice even started. He’s stupid in a lot of ways, but perceptive in so many more. Knows Daichi, Koushi,  _ all _ of them too well not to notice something like that.

“It’s nothing, Noya. Don’t worry about it.”

“Nothing? Is that true? Or is that what  _ you  _ think is true? Or is it Suga who believes it?”

_ Fuck, he must’ve asked Koushi before me. _

“I really can’t talk about it. But it’ll be handled soon.”

“Are you going to talk it out or are you going to pretend it never happened? Cause only one of those options is  _ handling _ it.” 

Daichi is quiet for a long time. Too long. Standing there, probably with a pained expression, watching Noya’s face go through several emotions. Concern, sadness, fear, then a calculated calm.. He can’t hold eye contact for most of it.

“I really don’t know, Nishinoya.”

Noya nods, solemnly.

“You’d better  _ handle _ it, if not for yours, for everyone’s sakes.”

He walks away before Daichi can reply, can reassure him, can apologize.

  
  


\-----

  
  


They go through the school week quietly. Daichi trudges through it, inching by like he was walking through a pool of molasses. It’s thick and it gets higher and higher and  _ higher _ until it's up to his chest, and he knows if something doesn’t give soon, he’ll drown in the tension, the silence, the averted gazes and stilted conversations.

It’s Friday afternoon, after everyone’s left the locker rooms, when the molasses has reached his throat.

By now, Daichi’s gotten scared.  _ Really _ scared. What’s going to happen, by the time they reach the next week? What are they going to do? Is Koushi really just taking his time, or does he just want to pretend it never happened? Is that it? They just go the rest of the year hardly speaking? They never handle it? And then what? What happens to the  _ years _ of friendship? Is he going to have to spend the rest of the year talking to Koushi with so much sadness, so much pain hidden behind a cheery tone? Is he gonna have to pretend that neither of them are hurting?

Daichi doesn’t want to get used to it- the tension, the drowning, the quiet.

He knows if he adapts, accustoms himself to the silence, adjusts to the tensity, it’ll snap. It won’t ease, dissolve, no. It’ll  _ break _ . He’ll get stung, lashed, cut by the rebound of everything snapping and disconnecting. And their connection, everything they had before that week, would flicker out, in an instant. He’d lose every moment he’s been clinging to, every little smile and laugh and joke he’s been holding close and can hardly touch all week.

“Daichi?”

Once again, he’s startled when locking the doors to their locker room after practice.

“Hello, Koushi.”

  
  


\---

  
  


“Glad to know you still use my first name.” Koushi says, trying his best to seem casual.

“Me too.”

“Everyone uses your first name, though.”

“Sounds best coming from you.” 

Daichi’s immediate blush tells him he said that on accident, which somehow makes Koushi’s face flush even hotter than it would've been if it was intentional. It felt more genuine, private.

“You know what I’m here for.”

“Yeah. My place?”

“Sure.”

They walk out of the school quietly. Hardly a word. There’s still tension from the last week, the week that was so goddamn  _ painful _ , but it’s different now. The tense thread between them is shaking, vibrating, tightening. Either it snaps apart or the tension finally releases, and now that he’s here Koushi has no choice but to be the one who chooses how this ends.

God, he  _ hates _ it. But he hates that he wants Daichi to make the decision even more. 

Koushi made this entire mess, he ought to fix it. He’s the one who pulled everything taught, letting himself send the  _ i need some time to think  _ message when he  _ knew _ he didn’t, letting himself take a full fucking week even though he knew  _ exactly _ what he wanted, letting himself instill the quiet that seeped into the rest of the team, letting it all pull and pull and  _ pull _ until it was too tight, until he risks everything falling apart. Daichi’s held on, been so patient, so understanding, Koushi can't help but think that he doesn’t deserve him.

But Daichi deserves the truth. He can't deny him that.

“I’m... I’m so sorry. For what I did Saturday,” he blurts out before he’s even finished taking off his shoes at Daichi’s house.

“You already apologized.”

“Yeah, for the wrong reasons.”

A silence, like a ringing bell, echoes between them.

“Then why are you sorry now?”

“For-for closing the door. Shutting you out. Pushing you away and--and throwing away  _ everything _ you offered me, God, I’m so  _ sorry _ .” 

Koushi’s looking at the wooden floors. He knows that the second he lays eyes on Daichi’s face, he’ll break without saying everything he needs to say. Daichi doesn’t say a word. He probably knows Koushi isn’t finished, probably knows everything he’s going to say anyways.

“Daichi, you were right. Right about... about being selfish. I was being selfish in the wrong ways. Selfish because I put you through a week of  _ hell _ , probably, since everyone clearly knows what's going on. They didn’t bother me too much. But they rely on you. All of us do. They probably asked you a bunch of questions.”

“No, not that much. They knew and trusted we’d handle it.” 

His tone is soft. Like silk, like a warm brush of cloth against Koushi’s cheek, and a tear comes down, racing after it, chasing the soothing warmth that he’s been missing all week.

Koushi chuckles.

“I’m still sorry. I’ve--I’ve been a mess. Hell, I still  _ am  _ one.”

“No, not really. Just a little conflicted, I think. You weren’t a mess, you were distraught. But you look like you know what you want, right now.”

“I do?”

A pause.

“Yeah. So.”

Bubblegum pink, cinnamon brown and pastel yellow flickers around them, like butterflies, inside the entrance to Daichi’s home. It flutters around, nudging Koushi to take a step forward, just a little closer-

“What do you want, Kou?”

_ Kou. Kou, Kou Kou Kou Kou Kou, God, I missed that nickname so much- _

Koushi looks up at him. He’s shocked to find more tears streaming down Daichi’s face than what he can feel running down his own, hot and fast. He takes a couple steps forward, slowly, like a gentle breeze was inching him closer and closer and  _ closer _ to Daichi.

“You probably know already.” Koushi practically laughs the words out, putting a hand on Daichi’s warm, tear stained face. Daichi puts his hand on his wrist, holding it there, steadily, gently,  _ grounding  _ him and setting him  _ free  _ at the same time. Like he’s breathed in a huge gulp of air after being underwater for too long.

“I know, but I wanna hear you say it.” Daichi’s grinning and his thumb is swiping over Koushi’s wrist in his hands, and their noses are touching before Koushi can even register that they’ve both leaned forward.

“You cheeky fucker,” Koushi chuckles against Daichi’s face.

“Yeah, but you like it-” Daichi cuts himself off with his lips on Koushi’s, and he feels like he's melting, dissolving,  _ burning  _ into him.

Koushi half expects that  _ something _ that’s been keeping his heart company for God only knows how long now to disappear, to finally go away when everything comes together and falls apart, when Daichi and Koushi ignite and collide and finally are just  _ there _ . But no, something stays, something lights up like  _ fireworks _ , bright and hot and all over the place. 

Koushi pulls away, slowly.

“It’s you, dummy.” He hardly moves his face away to meet Daichi’s eyes, mumbles the answer to his question in a breathless whisper, barely sucks in a breath in the first place to practically gasp it out. Daichi smiles, gently pressing their noses together.

“I know.”

Koushi feels like a candle, melting over and over and  _ over _ again against Daichi, against their lips pressed together, his chest flush against his, and they’re still in Daichi’s doorway but it feels like they're on another  _ planet _ , God, he loves it so  _ much _ .

He loves it.

He doesn’t  _ something _ it, he fucking  _ loves  _ it. And he can finally say it. Maybe not out loud just yet, but he can finally admit it to himself, finally feel it.

“Mmm,” Koushi hums into Daichi’s mouth, half pulling away, half pressing against him harder; he’s not sure if he wants to keep kissing him or say what he wants to say.

“Does...” Koushi kisses him again, and they both chuckle.

“Does what?”

“Mm... gimme another kiss first.” Daichi probably hears the grin on Koushi’s face in his pronunciation. They practically leap into the kiss, and when he finally pulls back, he goes far enough to look Daichi in the eye.

“Does this mean whenever you borrow your mom’s car for us to go places I get permanent aux cord privileges?”

Daachi splutters into a laugh, and  _ God, _ Koushi nearly forgot how badly he missed Daichi’s laugh this last week. It’s strong like him, grounding like him, adorable like him, always gets Koushi laughing too, until they’re giggling like seafoam green and fizzy sprite on their way to grab snacks in Daichi’s kitchen, practically dancing on their way to eat and then, knowing the both of them, study, in Daichi’s room for what Koushi hopes will be the rest of the night, the weekend, their  _ lives _ .

Koushi makes sure they’ve locked the front door before they go to Daichi’s room.

He’s glad he’s stopped wishing for a moment long gone, a moment lost to the spring breeze. He stopped aching for a moment he let go, and now every part of him is burning the present into his mind. Daichi, taking his free hand in his, and them both joking around as they half-skip into his room--both downright  _ delirious _ from how enchanted they were by each other. He burns every second he can into his mind, takes every moment, every breath, touch, smile, laugh; he engraves it into stitches that patch themselves up together seamlessly after the long week of breaking down, tearing apart.

The tension he felt only minutes ago is long forgotten.

“Kou?”

“Hm?

They’re sitting on the floor by Daichi’s bed, tearing through their snacks.

“You’ve got really good taste in music.”

“Thank you, Daichi. Is that a yes to my question earlier?”

Daichi laughs, staring down at the half eaten apple in his hands.

“Hey, that's not an answer, mister!” Koushi pouts, and thankfully it makes Daichi laugh more. His shoulders tense up and he laughs with his whole chest and  _ holy fuck _ , Koushi could get used to this.

“Go ahead. Take the aux cord.”  _ My heart’s yours, too _ rang unsaid between them. But they both knew already, the feeling was mutual.

Koushi hums, but he can tell that wasn’t the end of the conversation.

“So what did you  _ really  _ want to say?” He raises his eyebrow, grinning crookedly.

Daichi flushes red, and he instantly resolves that he  _ definitely _ needs to pull out the Crooked Grin more often.

“We-well. Uh. Uhm. Since you’re really good with music. What-” Daichi cuts himself off, scratching awkwardly at his neck, tapping his knee with his fingers.

“What.. what song do you think we would be?” 

Daichi is blushing all the way down to his neck, and it's so goddamn  _ cute _ that Koushi nearly has a heart attack, before he pulls himself back to reality to answer the question.

Koushi thinks about it for a moment or two. 

“Hmmm. There’s too many out there for us to just be one. But right now, I’d say _ Vanilla Sundae  _ by Emily Burns.” 

Koushi remembers Sunday, when he tried to drown himself in regret and linen sheets. The song turned his heartache to a bruise, and the harder he pressed into the sheets, the more he regretted pushing Daichi away, the more those hot tears burned their way down his cheeks and into the cloth, the more those pastel pinks and yellows glowed hotly, the more those bittersweet lyrics turned biting and sickly at the same time, the more those gentle voices lined them all with cinnamon brown mica, the more  _ all  _ of it pressed into the dark purple bruises. 

“I think we’re a lot of songs.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ll make a playlist for you- us. Uh. Well. Each song will probably be different, probably  _ really _ different, but each one will have the same quality, that same  _ something _ that’ll belong just to us, y’know?” 

Daichi smiles at him softly, and something in Koushi is  _ definitely  _ on fire, burning right now. 

“I’d like that, Koushi.”

“Yeah?”

Koushi doesn’t say anything for a moment. He looks at Daichi, that soft half smile he has on his face and that  _ something  _ glittering in his eyes, and decides he’s not going to burn this moment into his mind. He’ll tuck it away for later, carve it into an unfilled niche in his heart, for when he can’t sleep tonight--to pull it out and roll it over, lay it bare and lay down restlessly. He’ll be fidgeting because he can’t sleep, tossing and turning as he splays out the image of Daichi sitting cross legged, half smiling and eating with one of his eyebrows raised over in his mind. He knows he won’t be getting much sleep tonight, and doesn’t mind it so long as he gets to stare at this moment, framed with mica, bursting with a million colors, a million words-

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t even need to say it. Neither does Daichi. They just smile, grinning ear to ear, breaking out in fits and giggles, bubbly and gentle like bubblegum pink, cinnamon brown and pastel yellow. The quiet, the comfort between them says a million words and nothing at all. He isn’t sure when his half-peeled orange he’d snagged from Daichi’s kitchen suddenly transformed into ice cream, but here it was: rocky road, erupting in cinnamon browns, muted beiges and mottled white. He doesn’t even need to say it. Neither does Daichi.

_ God, I’m so fucking gone for you.  _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading so much!! if you haven't already, read the chatfic ive got posted !! the rustling in the bushes is a nod to tanaka and nishinoya kidnapping tsukki to spy on daisuga in the chatfic
> 
> uhhh leave a kudos and comment if u liked it!!
> 
> u can find me at senkusIut on twt (with an i not an L) and tastefully-illiterate on tumblr!


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